


The Morning After

by side_stickie_note (lost_stickie_note)



Series: Universe-ity [2]
Category: X1 (Korea Band)
Genre: Didn't even give the ex a name, Fluff, Hangyul is done, Humor, M/M, One Shot, Really just pointless fluffy fluff fluff, Seungwoo is whipped, Seungyoun is....something, Wooseok is B-L-I-N-D, Yohan is cuuuuute, literally the day after to Shots Fired, side!Seunghan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:06:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23299030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_stickie_note/pseuds/side_stickie_note
Summary: A one-night stand later, and somehow Wooseok now maybe has aboyfriend.Just some fluffy comedy cuteness. Actually a short sequel to 'Shots Fired':here.
Relationships: Cho Seungyeon | Seungyoun/Kim Wooseok | Wooshin
Series: Universe-ity [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1516703
Comments: 6
Kudos: 143





	The Morning After

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a while since I updated...still working on/within this universe, and hopefully there will be more to come. Hope everyone is staying safe and healthy. -hugs- Not sure how often I'm going to be updating with X1 fics (just short on time), but I AM planning on writing for the Seungyoun fest. :)
> 
> Thank you to my two lovely beta readers. ♡♡♡
> 
> Comments, kudos, and feedback are always appreciated!
> 
> Feel free to come scream at me on Twitter: [@sidestickienote](https://twitter.com/sidestickienote)

Wooseok wakes up feeling like shit.

His head is pounding as if there’s a little drummer boy on the inside keeping time to a throbbing and unrelenting beat, and the inside of his mouth feels dry, his tongue sticking to the top of his roof. And Wooseok blinks confusedly, his eyes not quite working properly just yet, the hazy picture of a room that is definitely _not_ his coming into view. Ugh. It takes him an extra minute to fully process that Seungyoun is in his bed. No, that’s not quite right, he’s in Seungyoun’s bed. Wooseok lets out a quiet groan, the events of last night coming back to him, the product of far too many drinks with perhaps a splash of horniness. Okay, a lot of horniness. The regret seeps in, but he hates to admit that it doesn’t stop him from admiring the other boy as he sits up, sprawled over the bed and taking up far too much space, Seungyoun’s arm sliding off his waist where the other boy had been pulling him close to _plop_ back on to the pillow. Seungyoun is in just his boxers, and Wooseok runs his eyes appreciatively over the other boy’s broad shoulders, bare back, and _shit_ Seungyoun has another tattoo, quite large right between his shoulder blades, one that Wooseok doesn’t remember seeing last night. And his gaze slides fondly over Seungyoun’s peaceful sleeping face, the other boy’s cheek pressed into the pillow, only the vague slope of Seungyoun’s nose visible, the mussed hair sticking up in every which way.

Now to run away from his mistakes, yeah.

Wooseok quietly pulls on his clothes from last night, his outfit carefully folded up in a pile sitting on Seungyoun’s desk, cursing himself as he feels the material against his skin, the smell of alcohol still faintly present. _Gross_. He pauses as Seungyoun shifts in the bed, rolling over, eyes still closed, and Wooseok sends up a prayer as Seungyoun’s hip bones come into view, the gun tattoo moving as he breathes, the clear-cut evidence of morning wood straining against his boxers. _Shit, it’s too early in the morning for this_. Wooseok hooks his fingers into the backs of his shoes, wincing as the door squeaks when he opens it, closing it as quietly as he can behind him, slipping on his shoes as he walks down the stairs. _Now for the walk of shame back home._ And he’s about to do it, sneak out the front door like a coward, when he hears his name.

“Wooseok, is that you?”

He doesn’t leave.

No way.

And it’s with great trepidation that he follows the voice, making his way to the kitchen where he’s greeted with the most bizarre scene he could imagine after waking up from a one-night stand. “Good morning, Wooseok.” Seungwoo is standing in the kitchen at the stove, back to him, a pink fluffy apron thrown over sweatpants and a t-shirt, tied with a huge knotted bow at the waist, only briefly twisting around to give him a cheery smile before turning back to the eggs that are cooking in the frying pan. The very picture of domestic bliss. And also jarringly odd to Wooseok seeing his roommate cook breakfast somewhere other than their own apartment. “How did you sleep?”

Wooseok nearly squeaks in indignation. “How did I _sleep_? You abandoned me yesterday the instant we got here.” He points an accusatory finger at the older boy. “You told me that you wanted to bring me out to have _fun_. Not that you were just dragging me along as bait so that you could shack up with some pretty freshman.” He’s so busy seething, that he doesn’t notice the third boy in the room, only turning to look as the voice pipes up. And Wooseok finally gets to see the face of the boy Seungwoo had been attached to last night. _Cute._

“While I guess I appreciate being called pretty, I do actually have a name. Kim Yohan.” The other boy gives him a wave from where he’s sitting at the kitchen table, a textbook opened next to a stack of flashcards accompanying him, with what looks like a mess of numbers and jargon written on them, a generous amount of red cross-outs. “And Seungwoo, you didn’t tell him that we’re dating yet?”

“No, I was waiting until he met Seungyoun first.” Seungwoo grabs two plates from the cabinet, sliding the finished eggs and bacon off from the pan and flicking off the fan above the stove. Wooseok splutters as his roommate hands him one of the plates. “Here, your favorite. Eat up.”

“Eat _up_? That’s all you have to say to me?” Wooseok doesn’t turn down the food, grabbing at the fork that Seungwoo hands over before stabbing it angrily into his egg, the yolk running out. “How about sorry-that-I-tricked-you-into-coming-to-a-party-for-my-own-personal-gain.” He takes a bite as he watches Seungwoo pour milk into a bowl of cereal that he hands to Yohan before taking a seat at the kitchen table. “Come on, Wooseok. At least sit down and eat with us.”

He sits reluctantly.

“And it was not my own personal gain. I did it for you. Weren’t you happy with how last night turned out?” Seungwoo pauses. “I mean, you must be if you’re still here the morning after, right?” But before Wooseok can respond with simmering outrage, Hangyul interrupts, padding into the kitchen, running his hands through his hair, voice still laced with morning sleepiness. “Yeah, he was happy. Times two, maybe three. God, you would think that Seungyoun would _respect_ the fact that we live in a house with thin-ass walls.” Hangyul whines, shooting him a resigned look. “You’re not exactly quiet.”

The comment makes the flush heat his cheeks, the burning embarrassment running through him, and Wooseok busies himself with eating instead, stuffing his mouth with more eggs, not knowing how to respond. “You would think that he would have learned by now after fucking his way through a quarter of the campus.” Yohan replies offhandedly, spooning a scoop of cereal into his mouth as he looks down at his flashcards, pencil tapping rhythmically against the edge of the table. Hangyul shoots Yohan a dirty look, one that the other boy doesn’t pay the least bit of attention to. “What? That’s rich coming from you. I slept on the _couch_ in the living room last night since you and Seungwoo took over our _shared_ bedroom.” Hangyul angrily munches on a piece of toast covered with jam. “I swear, if I don’t get my own bedroom by the end of this semester, I might really kill you all. In cold-blood.”

Seungwoo looks up from the cup of coffee he’s sipping, responding evenly, calm. “Well, now that Wooseok knows we’re together, we can fuck at my place instead.” The off-hand statement causes Wooseok chokes on his food, great hacking coughs as Seungwoo, his roommate and supposed-best-friend pounds on his back, concerned. “I- uhhh, this is a bit much for me to take in this early in the morning.”

Yohan laughs with amusement. “Early? It’s nearly noon, Wooseok.”

“Yeah, well, I just woke up, and I’m not exactly the world’s best early riser.” Seungwoo shoves his cup of coffee underneath his nose unceremoniously. “Here, have some of my coffee.”

“Not really the point, Seungwoo.”

He takes a sip anyway.

“But why does it feel like I’m the only one not in the loop here.” Wooseok looks curiously around at the three boys gathered at the table, and Hangyul gives a snort in response, staring at him incredulously. “You didn’t tell him?” Hangyul raises an eyebrow to look at Seungwoo, who has the decency to look embarrassed, his cheeks pinkening.

“Tell me what?”

“About Operation: Get Wooseok and Seungyoun Together. Aka absolutely the most useless three months of meticulous planning that I’ve ever seen, considering apparently all that needed to happen was getting you two drunk and in the same room.” Hangyul chuckles, eyes bright. “Though I can’t say I’m unhappy with this turn of events. If you’re as great as Seungwoo says you are, that means we won’t have to continue to suffer through Seungyoun’s rotation of strangers-who-must-not-be-named.”

And suddenly, the regret is hitting him like a brick.

_Just how many people has Seungyoun slept with._

“Stop making me sound like a whore.” Wooseok feels his chest twinge with expectation, a roll of nervousness washing over him, when he hears the voice, and he half-turns in his seat to see Seungyoun walking in, topless and in gym shorts, toweling off his wet hair. “You’re gonna scare him off.” Seungyoun turns to him teasingly, looking up at him through his wet bangs. “Morning, Princess.” Wooseok gapes at the other boy, the retort stuck in his throat, as Seungyoun snatches the fork out of his hands, taking a bite of the food off his plate. “Mmm, yum. Did you make this? Or Seungwoo per usual?”

“Seungwoo, of course.” Yohan plants a kiss on Seungwoo’s cheek. “Best boyfriend ever.”

Hangyul makes a gagging sound. “Is this what it’s going to be like now? My single ass having to watch all of you being lovey-dovey in front of me every day?”

“Excuse me?” Wooseok interjects, miffed. “I think the more important question is: per usual? How often does Seungwoo cook breakfast for you all?”

“Hmm.” Seungyoun’s expression turns thoughtful. “Maybe like three times per week maybe?” Wooseok lets out a strangled cry as Seungyoun steals more of his food. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

Wooseok swivels his head to laser-focus his gaze on Seungwoo until the older boy looks upwards. “Are you telling me that every time I woke up and you were gone in the morning, it was because you were over here? Not that you were getting in some early studying?”

“Well, he was studying. Just not a textbook.” Wooseok glares and swats at Seungyoun’s hand when the other boy tries to grab a piece of bacon from his place, receiving a dejected pout in return. “Hey, why are you giving me that look? I’m not the one that’s been lying to you for months.”

“Rude, absolutely rude.”

“Hey, stop picking on my boyfriend.” Yohan scrunches up his nose, burying his face into Seungwoo’s shoulder. “You almost done, Seungwoo?” Wooseok watches as the look of adoration sweeps across Seungwoo’s face, the older boy ruffling Yohan’s hair to his chagrin. “Yeah, just need to get changed and stuff, and then we can go.”

Seungyoun makes a noise of interest. “Where are you two lovebirds off to?” Wooseok gives Seungyoun a glare as the other boy successfully manages to steal bacon from him in the few seconds he had glanced away, munching away happily. “Since you said you’re getting changed, I’m assuming it’s not a sex thing.” A look of horror crosses Seungyoun’s face. “Unless it _is_ …”

Seungwoo lightly flicks Seungyoun across the forehead, making Seungyoun wince, to Wooseok’s delight. _Deservedly._ “Nope.” Yohan grins. “We’re going to play tennis. Seungwoo said that he’s good, so we’re going to see whether he’s right.” Yohan stands up and gets down low into a stance, swinging an imaginary racket. “But I bet I’m gonna beat his ass.”

Seungyoun smirks. “Yeah, I _bet_ you are.”

Yohan turns scarlet, the tips of his ears turning red, and Wooseok feels the little stabs of empathy, the realization dawning on him that he isn’t the only one who falls prey to Seungyoun’s pithy comments. _Sounds like they do this a lot._ Wooseok steals a sidelong glance at the boy sitting next to him, who’s currently engaged in a heated debate with Hangyul. Something about ham. He makes a small _eep_ to himself when Seungyoun mindlessly reaches over to grab his hand, pulling it underneath his own before rubbing little circles with his thumb into Wooseok’s palm as he continues to talk. And Wooseok is content to let their words wash over him, interspersed with occasional groans of disappointment as Yohan flips through his cards. The anger from earlier at Seungwoo has decreased to a small sizzle by now, a grudging acceptance running through him that maybe he doesn’t mind how last night had turned out. Wait. With horror, Wooseok realizes he’s dating a boy that is arguing about _ham_. Maybe he shouldn’t release Seungwoo from the grasp of his shit list just yet.

Speaking of.

“Yohan.” Seungwoo reappears in the kitchen, carrying rackets in hand, a bag strap slung over his shoulder in what Wooseok presumes contains the tennis balls. His roommate has changed into a tennis outfit, blindingly white shorts with a dark navy blue shirt. “Ready for me to kick your perfect ass in tennis?”

“Fat chance.”

“I bet I’m better than the both of you.” Seungyoun suddenly declares, a sparkle of interest in his eye. Wooseok kicks himself mentally for finding the slightly, okay, more than slightly, cocky grin on Seungyoun’s face attractive. Seungyoun breaks out into a huge smile, and Wooseok kicks himself again for good measure. “What do you say, we have a friendly wager?”

“I’m listening.” Yohan stares at them, chin tucked in the crook of Seungwoo’s neck, arms draped over his boyfriend’s shoulders, his cheekbones rising into a smile. “What do I win when you lose?”

“I’m not going to _lose_.” Seungyoun looks at Yohan thoughtfully. “How about we bet on the apartment.” Seungyoun rolls his eyes as Yohan cocks his head questioningly. “ _Their_ apartment.” Wooseok makes a small noise of protest as Seungyoun points at Seungwoo and him, gesturing. “Whoever wins will get to use their apartment for the next week without interruptions.” Seungyoun grins. “Will be a perfect chance to get away from all you imbeciles. Maybe I can finally have some peace and quiet.” A pause. “And not wake up to a house that looks like it could be put through a car wash three times and still not look acceptable.”

“You can’t just bet _someone else’s_ apartment.” Wooseok punches Seungyoun in the upper arm, none too lightly, glaring at Seungyoun as the other boy rubs his arm with a pained pouting expression. “Me and Seungwoo happen to _live_ there, Seungyoun.”

Seungyoun shoots him a mischievous look. “Actually princess, Seungwoo practically lives here now.” Wooseok squirms when Seungyoun slings his arm over his shoulder, pulling him closer, his cheeks heating up as he gets pressed up against Seungyoun’s bare chest, blinking furiously in his attempt to pretend as if it’s perfectly normal. And actively ignoring the smirk that Hangyul is giving them. “And won’t it be nice to have the whole place to ourselves?” Wooseok feels the shiver of anticipation run down his spine as Seungyoun leans down to whisper in his ear. “I have some ideas of how we might have some fun.”

Seungwoo’s mouth quirks up at the corner. “You seem pretty confident about winning, Seungyoun.”

“Mhm.”

“Well, in that case…” Seungwoo draws out his words slowly, face rearranging into a large smile, a slight throaty chuckle escaping. “…you wouldn’t mind having a slight handicap, would you?” And Wooseok can feel it in his bones, the glint in Seungwoo’s eyes unmistakable and dangerous. He feels the horror seeping into his body as Seungwoo points at him. “Me and Yohan versus you and Wooseok. Doubles.” And before he can even object, Seungyoun is declaring their demise with the utmost confidence of a czar sentencing some pour soul to their death. _Me, I’m the pour soul._ All while Seungwoo breaks out into uncontrollable laughter in the background as everyone looks on.

Wooseok is not good at tennis to put it mildly.

In fact, Wooseok would have given _anything_ just to not be playing tennis, also known as the sport-he-absolutely-sucks-at, in front of Seungyoun, the boy he slept with the night before and hopefully will keep sleeping with in the future. But if his prospects hinge on his tennis playing skills, then Wooseok is afraid he might be out of a boyfriend sooner than he thought. _I can’t believe I’m about to be sexiled from my apartment for a week._ “Wooseok, the ball!” And he turns his head confusedly as the blur of yellow shoots past his face, too quick for him to catch it, still crouched down in his neutral stance.

And he glares at Seungwoo from across the court, trying to form the most menacing face he can muster, attempting to convey his wrath silently. Though he’s not sure he’s getting the message across as another ball whips past him. “Wooseok, the, uhhh, object of the game is to hit the ball back over the net.” To Wooseok’s relief, Seungyoun looks more amused than anything else, swinging his racket from side to side, miming the motion of hitting the tennis ball. “Hurry up! Your turn to serve.” Yohan yells out, and Seungyoun gets into position at the baseline, leaving Wooseok tense and alert near the net.

_Seungwoo, you asshole._

His ex-best friend aims directly _at him_ , and Wooseok watches helplessly as the ball seemingly comes out of nowhere, eyes squinting hard trying to track the needlessly small object through the air. God, how do people _do_ this. Wooseok normally isn’t the worst at sports, but of course, Seungwoo picked the one sport he’s hopeless at, the ball not large enough for him to see from a distance and already too fast once it gets close. It doesn’t help that he left his glasses at home, not suspecting he would need them. And it’s _certainly_ not his fault that he has bad eyesight.

“Wooseok, look out!” He tries to turn towards Seungyoun’s voice, but that apparently is the entirely wrong move as he suddenly feels a sharp pain shooting through his temple, the feeling of being hit by a truck running through his head. “Oh my god, Wooseok, are you okay?” He tries to look up at Seungyoun, eyes squinting through the tears that are already starting to form, the sun blaring down on them in unrelenting fashion. “You’re not bleeding, are you?” Wooseok makes a pained noise of surprise as Seungyoun gently cups his chin with his hands, tilting his cheek to the side to get a better look, staring at Wooseok intently, biting his lower lip in concentration. And Wooseok nearly swoons, the blood rushing to his head making it pound even harder. _Okay, now would not be a good time to pass out._

“I’m…fine. I think.” Wooseok touches the side of his head gingerly, running his fingers over the spot, groaning when he feels the lump already starting to form. “Just a bit of a bump. Maybe some bruising tomorrow.” He winces when Seungyoun presses a light kiss to the spot, the worry written all over his face, his eyebrows drawn together, and Wooseok feels the pang of happiness in his chest. “Really, Seungyoun, I’m fine.” He tries to hastily reassure the other boy again.

“Can you get up?” Yohan and Seungwoo are peering down at him with concern now, and Wooseok decides to spare his best friend from another scathing look, Seungwoo’s face stricken with guilt. “You okay, Wooseok? I didn’t think I’d actually hit you with the ball.” He tries to stand, grabbing on to Seungyoun’s arms who’s reaching down to help, and immediately Wooseok groans, the dizziness making him wobble, Seungyoun keeping him upright, arms wrapped tightly around him, and Wooseok lets himself sink into the other boy’s chest. “You don’t seem okay.” Seungyoun murmurs the words into his hair, the other boy’s lips grazing his earlobe.

“Let’s stop for today.” Yohan’s suggestion is met with agreement from everyone except for Wooseok who tries to protest. “I’m _fine_.”

“I don’t want you getting dizzy and fainting after running around more.” Seungyoun’s voice is firm, leaving no room for arguments. “Here, get on.” Wooseok stares apprehensively at Seungyoun’s back, the other boy crouching down slightly, motioning with his hands for Wooseok. He tries not to think about the fact that Seungyoun is slightly sweaty, his t-shirt clinging to his skin, or that Seungyoun’s hands are cupping the underside of his thighs, fingers splayed against his skin, warm. Or that Seungyoun’s back is nice and broad and _solid_ , and after a few moments of plodding along, Wooseok stops feeling as if the other boy might drop him, tentatively tightening his arms around Seungyoun’s shoulders, his face pressing into the crook of Seungyoun’s neck, feeling the other boy’s hair tickling at the tip of his nose.

And he especially tries not to think about the curious looks as the four of them making their way back to the house, the shortest path leading them directly through the middle of the campus. There are widened eyes, raised eyebrows, and whispered words. The other three are chatting, and Wooseok lets their voices wash over him without paying them any mind. And he’s just about to doze off on Seungyoun’s shoulder, the sun beating down making him drowsy, comfortable with his cheek pressed up against the other boy’s back. But the hiss wakes him, Seungwoo’s panicked voice, and Wooseok snaps to attention immediately, as if he’s just gotten doused with a gallon of cold water. _Asshole dickwad incoming._ Aka Seungwoo’s unfortunate but apt nickname for his ex-boyfriend.

Wooseok doesn’t even realize he’s started to panic until he hears Seungyoun whisper at him, low and soothing. “Hey, it’s okay. Calm down. I’ll take care of it.” With horror, he hears the inquiring voice, his cheeks starting to heat up with embarrassment, burying his face deeper into Seungyoun’s back, not wanting to see. “Is that you, Wooseok?”

“Absolutely none of your business.” Seungwoo’s voice has a hard edge. Protective. Wooseok sends up a silent thank you to his best friend, who admittedly never liked his ex-boyfriend even when they had been dating. “Leave him alone.”

The voice ignores Seungwoo, switching tactics and turning his attention elsewhere. “Seungyoun, right?” A pause. “I’ve heard of you.” Wooseok can’t see anything, but the unmistakable smugness comes across easily still, and he feels Seungyoun’s hands tightening around his thighs, nails digging sharply into his skin. “You’re the guy that sleeps around with everyone.” Then the not-so-innocent question. “What are you doing with Wooseok?” The noise of outrage from Seungwoo is only tempered by Yohan’s soft voice of reason, and the sight of Yohan trying to hold the taller boy back pops into his head.

Seungyoun is far more collected than Wooseok.

“Well, can’t really say that I’m glad to meet you, but if you’ll excuse us, my boyfriend and I have somewhere else to be, so yeah.”

The obvious and loud splutter makes the giddiness rise up in Wooseok’s chest as Seungyoun walks away, and it isn’t until they’re out of earshot that Wooseok lets out his mirth, the giggles finally bursting out of him, feeling Seungyoun’s arms finally relax somewhat, the tension seeping out of the other boy’s frame. “You okay back there?”

“Oh g-god.” Wooseok chokes out the words in between laughs. “That was _great_. I only wish I had seen his face too.” He lets out another gleeful cackle. “Was it as good as I imagined?”

“Even better.” Yohan pipes up, and Wooseok lifts his head up to look at Seungwoo and Yohan walking beside them, both with matching grins on their faces. “Never met the guy before today, have only heard Seungwoo talk about him, but his face was super punchable.” Yohan smiles at him sweetly. “And just let me know if he ever bothers you again, and I’ll gladly roundhouse kick him into next week.”

“You don’t have to do that.” Wooseok feels the corners of his mouth upturning anyways at the offer. “I wouldn’t want you to go through the trouble.”

“Eh, what’s the harm in a little extra taekwondo practice?”

Seungyoun groans. “Hey, he’s my boyfriend. Shouldn’t I get the honors of beating up the ex-boyfriend?” Seungwoo looks at Seungyoun critically. “As if you could fight anyone, Seungyoun. You’re all types of soft on the inside. Don’t think we don’t all know it.”

“Irritating, you are so, so irritating.”

And their petty argument lasts the entire way back, Wooseok basking in the warm glow of the word _boyfriend_ all the way up until they make it back to his apartment, and Seungyoun lets Seungwoo and Yohan lock him out of his own place. Wooseok punches Seungyoun’s shoulder, letting out a whine of annoyance. “You’re really going to let them kick me out of my own home for a week?”

“What?” Seungyoun’s laughter is light, cheerful. “A bet’s a bet. And it’s entirely your own fault anyways since you suck at tennis.”

Wooseok punches Seungyoun in the arm again for good measure.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, kudos, and feedback are always appreciated!
> 
> Twitter: [@sidestickienote](https://twitter.com/sidestickienote)  
> CuriousCat: [@sidestickienote](https://curiouscat.qa/sidestickienote)  
> 


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